


Define the Space Between

by codependentsoulmates



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Samulet, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codependentsoulmates/pseuds/codependentsoulmates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's kept the amulet all this time. Set in s8x18</p>
            </blockquote>





	Define the Space Between

“That’s not my necklace,” Sam hears Krissy say, confusion evident in her voice.

He furrows his brow and looks down at the piece of jewelry in his hand and his heart stops. He never intended to let anyone know he’d kept it, especially not Dean, especially not like this. When his heart finally decides to do its job again, it picks up in double time. His blood runs so fast he feels like he needs to stop and gasp for air. He can acutely feel Dean’s gaze on him, like always, and he wants nothing more than to be able to rewind time and give Krissy the right damn necklace and never have to go through this. But never let it be known that Sam Winchester isn’t a fucking good actor.

Sam shakes his head and laughs self-deprecatingly. “Jesus,” he chuckles, shoving the amulet back into his jacket pocket, he then takes the necklace he meant to return out and hands it over to Krissy. “Keep so many things in here, lucky I didn’t accidentally hand you a gun.” Krissy laughs, even though she’s used to handling guns, and Sam laughs, thankful that his five second mini freakout was completely lost on Krissy. Even while he’s laughing with the girl, though, he knows it wasn’t lost on Dean.

***

“You _kept_  it?” Dean asks incredulously when they get back to the batcave. It hurts Sam right to his core, right down to the place Dean flayed alive when he threw it away, that Dean sounds so disbelieving about Sam keeping it. Of course Sam kept it. He retrieved it from that trashcan the minute Dean walked out the door. The hollow sound of the amulet Sam gave to the boy who meant everything him hitting the bottom of the can echoed the very sound of his heart breaking. If he cried when he picked it up, well, Dean will never know and he will never tell.

The amulet lies face up on their table, mocking Sam almost. He and Dean have managed to repair most of their relationship, but Sam knows they haven’t retained the easy adoration they had years ago. He wonders if they ever will. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know what he could possibly say to Dean right now. It’s almost as if his brother never wanted to see it again and he’s not sure whether it’s because Dean doesn’t want to regain the adoration they once held for each other or if it’s because it reminds him too much of it.

“ _You kept it_ ,” Dean states, breaking the silence and he doesn’t sound so incredulous anymore. In fact, he sounds close to tears. It surprises Sam. Dean rarely cries. He saves his tears for when his body is so exhausted from trying to hold them back that he simply can’t anymore. He turns to look at his brother, but Dean isn’t looking at him. He’s looking at the amulet. “Sammy,” his brother rasps then falls silent again and Sam knows that tone of voice. He knows that particular brand of his nickname, knows that Dean says ‘Sammy’ a variety of ways to convey his emotions and meaning when other words don’t cut it, knows that this particular Sammy means ‘I’m so fucking sorry.’

His brother finally looks up at him and it hurts when Sam sees the tears swimming in his eyes. For the first time, he acknowledges the fact that maybe Dean has been hurting over this as much as he was. “Dean,” Sam says in reply, his own tone of voice saying ‘It’s okay. I forgive you.’ And his voice tips up just a tad at the last letter of Dean’s name and it says loud and clear ‘would you like me to put it on you?’ Sam watches Dean with the rapt attention no one but his brother commands from him, waiting for his response.

Sam can hear his brother’s breath hitch ever so slightly; can see his throat working desperately, Adam’s apple bobbing. When Dean says ‘yes’ in a thick, gruff voice, Sam lets out a breath of relief he didn’t notice he was holding.

Not wanting to snap the fragile line between them, Sam moves with a hunter’s steps: quiet, deliberate, slow and steady, towards the table. The amulet gleams in the light, sparkling with the promise of protection it brings. His hands grasp the chord that turns the charm into a necklace and he lifts it with a reverence he doesn’t bestow unto most Bibles. Sam can feel another entity in the room with him and his brother, and he knows it’s just them. This crazy thing that they’ve developed over the years of being each other’s constant has evolved into a being all on its own and in this moment, Sam feels it’s bigger than the both of them. He moves behind Dean, quickly taking in the beauty of his brother’s profile, the dark dust of stubble below the golden spattering of freckles. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he sees a drop of moisture fall on Dean’s neck and his brother’s shudder from the sensation.

With trembling hands, Sam slips the amulet over Dean’s head, fingers brushing through soft hair. He clasps it behind Dean’s neck, knuckles brushing over the warm, soft skin. The sound of finality, of coming home echoes throughout the batcave and Sam can feel the other thing in here with them sigh with relief and become significantly smaller until Sam is sure he could tuck it into his shirt pocket, right over his heart, and keep it there for safe keeping.

When he steps away, Dean immediately turns around and pins a liquid jade gaze on Sam. “Sammy,” Dean breathes on what sounds suspiciously like a sob and Sam knows it means ‘I love you’. Finally, he’s smiling and pulling Dean into his arms. “Dean,” he murmurs, pressing two fingers under Dean’s chin to tilt his head up for a kiss. For some reason, Dean tastes better than he ever did. He tastes of coming home after school, ‘dean look what I did!’ on his lips, of warm touches on a stretch of highway, of christmasses spent watching cartoons and not missing their father for a few hours, of a big brother who means the world to him, of a love that keeps him whole.

And that last ‘Dean’ Sam murmured? It meant ‘I love you too.’

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [cuddlingbrothers](cuddlingbrothers.tumblr.com)'s tags on [this](http://cuddlingbrothers.tumblr.com/post/46654088132/fillerepisodes-i-think-this-is-yours-or) post and crossposted to my own tumblr. doesn't follow the tags to a T, but it was totally inspired by them. Title from You Are Jeff by Richard Siken


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